Revenge
by JamieLynn Black
Summary: Nancy is now a PI,and she begins to uncover a covert organization who is nearly invisible, and will do anything to remain so. Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, people. I hope you like my story. It's written in first person for most of it, because I like it best, even though most of the Nancy Drew stories are written in third. But anyways, if anyone sees any mistakes or anything, please tell me. I have to warn you, I'm not the fastest updater. I go in spurts, I update 3 chapter in one day, then I go like two weeks without updating. So sorry, anyone who's reading this. Oh, and _please_ review!!! Please?**

**Revenge**

**by JamieLynn Black**

I was lost in thought. Deep, deep in thought. What I was about to do was… dangerous. Crazy. Insane. This was probably the most dangerous thing I've ever done. But I loved it. Life would be boring, terribly boring without it. Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to agree with me.

No problem, I just wouldn't tell anyone.

Just then, Michael, my sort of partner walked through my door without knocking - as usual.

"What's up, Sherlock?" he asked playfully, throwing a pillow at my head. I quickly stopped it, out of reflex, even though I barely had time to see it come my way. "Hey! No fair, that's _cheating_!" Michael accused.

"Tough luck, man. That's what comes from years of training and experience," I said, feigning cockiness, and threw the pillow back at him. He easily caught it, too. Dang.

"Hey! No fair, you were expecting it!"

Michael held the pillow above his head, ready to strike. "Now are you going to tell me what you're planning, or am I gonna have to start a war?" he said, only half serious.

Jeez, trust Michael to know I'm planning something covertly.

"Now why couldn't I be just thinking something normal?"

"Well, because A: you're not normal. B: you're also a PI. And C: you're also Nancy Drew. Those are three prime ingredients for trouble. Now spill your guts, before I call a certain someone about another certain someone about the aforesaid someone burning down a certain school."

Oh. My. God. Guilt coursed through my body. How on earth did that boy find out about that?

"I hear there's still a reward… "

"Oh, jeez, fine! Be that way! But know this, McCarthy, I was on a case, and it was _not_ my fault! And I would have gone to the police with my info, but I was in Keystone County, and Chief Nichols hates my guts!" I confessed, "Okay, here it goes. But you will not repeat any of this to anyone, you understand?" after receiving rolled eyes and a nod, I continued, "There's this case I'm on. A string of murders, that may possibly be connected. These people - 10 upwards to 25, maybe more - went missing and were found brutally murdered. These people are scattered all across the East Coast and central states. But see, these people weren't ordinary people. They were buff guys, all capable of handling themselves - " but I was cut off.

"Just because they're buff, doesn't mean they're invincible," he reasoned. Ugh, boys.

"I'm getting to that part, just hold your horses. Anyway, I was hired to look into one particular victim by his sister. She thinks someone was after him, but there was no known reason why. Anyway, this guy, Adam Kramer, was a model citizen. But after doing some heavy digging, I found out he was CIA. He apparently was onto something, I just know it. I think it could possibly be Project Iceman. Anyway, after extensive digging, I found at least ten other guys who had been murdered in similar circumstances. I think they could all be CIA." I said, very excited.

"And what way exactly were they murdered? What's the MO? And how do you know they were CIA?" Michael asked. I was impressed. Before he met me, he was practically clueless about everything concerning cases. Of course, he was only 21. Wow, I thought, he's only 24 now. That's only three years ago. And I'm 25 now. Wow, I'm getting old. Old in a good way.

"Well, I happen to have a contact with them who's very trustworthy. And the coroner said that the guys died in a violent struggle. But no clue whatsoever."

"Don't get me wrong, you have great instincts, but what would a police say? No hard evidence, no case. At least, nothing to tie them together." Michael said.

"Yeah, you're right. And I'm gonna get the stuff I need tonight. Right here in Bar Harbor," I finished.

"Wait, right here? In Bar Harbor? You sure?" Michael questioned.

"Bar Harbor is a tourist trap, right where you wouldn't expect something fishy, right?" I countered.

"But are you sure? How can you be sure? When not even the CIA doesn't know about it?"

"Well, I am almost positive it is here. And if it isn't, then I'm walking into a trap, but I don't think he's lying. So, yes, I am sure. And my source happens to be one of them. His name is Jeff King, or at least, that's what he told me. And maybe the CIA does know about it, who knows. Maybe they're investigating it. I mean, if they're own men are going missing like that, all in the past month, they should be suspicious," then I remembered something, "Oh, shoot! I'm supposed to call Jeff soon for last minute directions!"

"Wait a minute!" he sounded kinda angry now, "_You_ were going to go to this mafia headquarters _alone_? Are you crazy!" he was yelling now. Great. "This could be a trap! Or if it's not a trap, then they're good enough to catch you, and you could be hurt! Worse than hurt!" it looked like he was realizing what he was saying, and then groaned, "You are not going alone. You will have at least me, if not the whole freakin' police department to back you up! Jeez, sometimes I think you got hit in the head too much," he complained.

"Easy, McCarthy," I commanded, "The reason you're not going with me is because it's too dangerous. And the reason why the police aren't gonna know about this is because Jeff made me promise not to involve cops until he's out of the country. And also, the group is too smart, they would notice a steak-out. No, I have to go alone," so I was stubborn, that's nothing new.

"Like hell you are! I'll call your dad, my mom, Ned, Bess, George, Frank, and Joe or anyone else I can find, to convince you that you can't go in there alone!" Michael threatened.

"That's not fair! You _know_ those people are biased, and would have - have clouded minds about the whole case!"

"Then let me go with you! I swear, if you don't, I _will_ call them, and I _will_ follow you." Crap. Why can't he ever listen?

"Fine, you win, but if you get hurt, I'll kill you!" sometimes my logic even astounds me.

"Sounds fair to me," he said with a wide grin, displaying his million-dollar smile, "Let's go catch some bad guys!"

Little did Nancy know, Michael would someone, just in case something did happen to them. But the problem was, he didn't know who. Nancy's dad, and his mom would never let them do it, so they were out. He didn't have George's phone number, not could he ask without sounding guilty, nor could he search her room for it. So it had to be Bess, Frank, Joe, or Ned. It had been five years since Nancy talked to either of the Hardy's, but from the way Nancy spoke about them, particularly Frank, that Nancy had tremendous respect for them and they were, at one point, really good friends. He picked someone to call. Michael dialed, and waited. One, two, three, four, five rings. The answering machine came on. He left a message. He hung up, and dialed again. One, two, three, four rings. Answering machine. He left another message. Just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everyone! Thank you sooooo much for your reviews! Thank you, thedisneygirl and Chromde. I'll replace the word ASAP, lol. And this is the edited 2nd chapter. I accidentally put the un-edited one up here, so sorry!**

I did call Jeff King, and he left instructions about everything. Everything had to be done perfectly, and everything had to be done tonight, Jeff said. Jeff didn't tell me much at all about the company, corporation, mafia, whatever it was, but he did say that it was an elite sector formed behind a certain powerful organizations's back, designed to help the organization run smoother while remaining invisible. He did not, however, say what organization. He clearly was scared. He was leaving the country after tonight. He needed to get something at the HQ before he left, he said.

As I got ready, I dressed all in black, from head to toe. And since I didn't have enough time to prepare properly, I would have to wear a black hat to cover my easily seen red hair. I brought all the equipment I thought necessary: gun, knife, and ear phone. I would normally bring a lot more, but Jeff said I didn't need to bring anything. Of course, it's always hard to trust a crook, even if he's claiming to help you. Which brings up something else I was considering. _Claiming_. What if it all was a set-up? What if Michael gets - no, I can't think like that. Michael can take care of himself. That still wasn't a lot of comfort.

"Hey, Mikey, you ready?" I yelled, making sure he heard me. I looked at my watch, checking if we were late. 10:37pm. Okay, had some time. We should leave at 10:45 to make sure we get there by 11:15. It only takes about 15 minutes to get to the City Insurance Agency on Palace Ivory Street, but I wanted to get there early.

Just then, an arm snaked around my neck. I instantly grabbed the hand, and yanked it while leaning forward, sending my assailant forward also. He was also dressed in black, and looked familiar . . .

"Oh, my God, Michael! What were you doing?" I'm sure I sounded annoyed and concerned at the same time, if possible.

"Just checking to see if you're still prepared," he said, sounding a little funny, but overall unhurt. He sprung lightly to his feet.

"Of _course_ I'm prepared! Although I'm a little unsure about how prepared you are, now that you bring up the topic. Of all times to test me, you pick _now_," I poked a little fun at him.

"Hey, if I wanted to, I could take you easy!" He said, clearly showing how male chauvinistic he could be, not wanting to get beat by a girl.

"After this whole thing is over with, it is _so_ on! The winner of the match will be named King or Queen of the domain," I challenged. And I had no doubt that I would win. Michael was good, don't get me wrong, but I prided myself on being the best I could be. Of course, I will still a work in progress.

"You got it," he said, grinning. He looked at his watch, "Oh, we should get going now. Get there a littler earlier than he expects, just in case."

We took a cab, so my car wouldn't be spotted, and had the driver drop us off two blocks away. We tried to avoid any surveillance cameras, and tried to remain unseen. Which wasn't that hard, since there was hardly anyone roaming around Bar Harbor at 10:58pm, much less at Palace Ivory, ironically a really deserted part of town.

As we neared the building, my adrenalin glands started kicking in. I once again checked to see if anyone was anywhere near us, and then checked the door, sure it was going to be locked. But it wasn't. It opened right up. Michael glanced at me, suspicion crossing our faces. Of course, Jeff had to have done that. But how, we didn't know. Any criminal business would have to have high security, especially one like this. Even though we didn't know exactly what type of business this was, other than crooked.

We both looked inside. It was pretty deserted. It looked like it was abandoned years ago. I didn't even see a sign of anyone yet. But I also wasn't in there yet. I could solve that problem.

It was a four story building, and we had to make sure no one was in any of those stories. We decided to check as many floors as we could before King came here. Although I really thought that he was already here, checking everything himself.

We moved silently, checking the first floor, and clearing it. Same with the second. There was nothing of importance in those floors. We checked for anything; files, receipts, hidden rooms, but nothing was there.

The third floor, however, was a different story. The first room we came in had file cabinets, and a table, which had papers galore on it. I checked some quickly. They were files on people.

"Bingo!" I said, excitedly, "Ross James, Edward Calvert, Justin Price, these are all names of people who were killed!"

"How about these?" asked Michael. I took them, and I didn't recognize any. Until the last one, that is.

"Oh, my God, Mike!" I exclaimed, horrified and thrilled at the same time, "This is Governor Frank Phillips! He's still alive. Maybe these are the hit lists yet to be done! Think about it! We can save lots of lives here! I hope they're all categorized right," I said, thinking. I looked through the last pile of files. What I saw scared me. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my entire life.

"What?" Michael said, apparently seeing something wrong with me. I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to hope I didn't see what I just saw. I handed the first couple pages on Jeff King to him.

"So? They just have a file on him, doesn't mean they're on to him. I mean, if he is telling us the truth." he said, still not getting it. I handed him the other files on people. Us. Me, him, my dad, his mom, all the people we are associated with.

"Oh, dang, how can they get these? I mean, you just heard from King like three days ago - hey, maybe this is a trap! Nancy, we gotta get out of here. Now." Didn't have to tell me twice. Either way, if he was setting us up, or if he has a death warrant out on him, we need to get out of it, and fast. I grabbed all the papers I could, and turned around.

Crap.

This complicated matters.

There was a woman, poised to fight.

I rushed her, trying to tackle her. It worked, but then we were on the floor, wrestling. I had to say, she had the upper-hand, but I wasn't going down easily. She landed a couple punches to my face, which I couldn't stop. She was up, but Michael had her now. She easily shook him off, and kicked his head, using some sort of martial arts. He fell to the ground. She lunged at me again, taking me down hard. Michael was grabbing her off me, but she easily fought both of us. I aimed a kick to her neck, but she side-stepped it, and shoved me to the floor, while she twisted Michael's arm. I seen someone else walk down the stairs. _Oh, please let it be a police._

I got up to fight again, but was wobbly, because, as I later found out, I had sprained my ankle somehow, but didn't feel it yet. Adrenalin was still in my favor.

When King finally got down, he aimed the gun, and shot it. It hit the woman her shoulder, and she was stunned enough for us to get an upper-hand. King tried to shoot again, but we were all one mass of moving people. So he joined us. Bad decision. When he came nearer, she lunged at him, and held two guns. One pointing at his head, and the other at me.

"Anyone move, and I swear I'll kill them both!" she shrieked, and I hated her. Anger fueled me.

"Hey, Annie, maybe now you'll get your big promotion," King spoke for the first time. I didn't know exactly what he was planning, but I was glad.

"Shut up, before I shoot!" she replied, crazed.

"You know, I'm glad it's you, Annie, or else we all would be dead right now," he said quietly.

He wants to get her angry. At him. Oh, no. He knows he's going to die. He's just trying to get us out. His face shows it. He's ready.

I'm not. He can't die. He's the key witness. I tried to think of what to do without getting someone hurt.

I tried to communicate with my eyes with Jeff what I was about to do. He nodded.

"I said, shut up! You don't even know me, you traitor!" she turned her attention slightly toward him, and I lunged at her, trying to knock the guns out of her hands. It only partially worked. I watched in silent horror as two guns went off, not knowing where they would go.

**Hey, again! Just wanted to say sorry for my lame excuse for a fight. I'm not good with names and such. But anyway, hoped you liked it! I'll hopefully have a new chapter up by Monday. And if there are any more mistakes, tell me! Thanks! **

**xoxoxo Jamie**


	3. Chapter 3

One bullet hit King, and he sank to the ground unconscious. The other, I felt, grazed my arm.

Wow, close. I was going to grab at least one gun from Angry-Crazed-Woman.

But, as you know, things never turn out as you plan.

She turned to me, her face contorted in a sneer. "You think you're something special, don't you, detective Drew," her words may as well have been poisen, "Just because some insignificant jerk decides to screw the company that made him who he is, you think you're brilliant. Well, let me tell you this, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. And I would say stay out of it, but you're already in over your head," and with that, she dropped both guns on the floor at my feet. "Go on, take it," she dared me.

I contemplated what she was doing. Either she thought I wouldn't, or she had something up her sleeve.

And I did something that surprised me. I took it, and walked toward the window. I broke the glass with my gun, and dangled them out the window. "Look, I don't know who you are, what you're doing, or what you're planning, but I can take care of myself. And you and your 'company' are obviously doing something wrong, because King here - your own agent - is scared, and if it wasn't because of something the company did, he wouldn't be lying on the floor," I stole a glance at him, making a mental note to hurry up and get this guy to a hospital.

And I dropped the guns out the window, watching shock register Angry-Crazed-Woman's face, and Michael's perplexed look. And I'm sure King would have questioned me, but he was out cold.

I probably wouldn't blame them either, if I had seen me do that, too. But they didn't see me hide one gun. Which was kind of hard to do without it being noticed.

"Now it's on, hot-shot. One-on-one, let's go," she said. I sort of nodded for Michael to go to King while I fought Butterbean.

I stepped forward, watching her closely, to make sure she wasn't gonna surprise me with any weapons. She didn't seem to have anything, so I waited till when we were actually fighting, then I went behind her back, and pulled out my gun, and stuck it to her head, "Now you will tell me everything about Project Iceman, and who's calling all the shots. And, gee, now that I think of it, where did you get my picture from, and what you know about me," I demanded, anger showing in my voice.

"You're brave now that you got a gun now, aren't you? Well, I can tell you this, we knew King, as you call him, was planning something. So we wired his phones. We heard him when he first called you."

"So that's why you're cleaning out of here, huh?" I asked, curious as to how much they know.

"Partially, but King here got smart. Got a new phone that we didn't know about until it was too late."

"Well, too bad for you," I said, kind of gloating. I seen Michael inspecting Jeff. From the looks of it, he wasn't doing too good.

"_No," she sneered, "Too bad for you_. Your face is plastered all over all our company. Pretty soon, it won't be safe for you anywhere. And it's not something you destroy, you have no idea how far this company extends," she continued, "So go ahead, blow my brains out. If you want to live past your next birthday, I'll only be the first of many that you'll have to kill."

Now how exactly am I supposed to respond to that?

I turned to Michael, "Let's get him to a hospital," and to her, "Try anything, and you're dead."

And we went slowly down two flights of stairs. I began to notice that my arm was burning more, and my wound may have been more serious than first thought.

Everything was fine. That is, until turned my head slightly, because of a noise I heard. Right then, four things happened.

I noticed someone else coming though the other door.

Second, the lady noticed me not paying attention.

And third, she took a gun from somewhere and shot thee times.

I instantly squeezed the trigger.

_Oh my God. What have I done?_ Blood was everywhere, not coming from anywhere in particular. The only thing I knew was that I was overall unhurt.

Michael fell to the floor, dropping King.

I rushed toward them, stepping over the lady, feeling slightly guilty for shooting her. I tried to discern where the blood was mostly coming from, trying to remember all the classes I took in ETT.

I laid both men on their backs. I was trying to act professional, but it was so hard to do. My mind kept screaming, _It's all your fault… it's all your fault_…

"What happened? What can I do?" a panicked voice said, I looked, and he appeared to be the person I seen coming through the door.

"Umm, check on that lady over there, then call an ambulance and the police," I said, and the guy was still acting confused, "Hurry!"

I turned again to Michael, he was conscious and grimacing. I did a quick hemorrhage sweep. He was shot twice, once in his right knee from behind, and once in the lower back. I was afraid of even touching his knee, so to stop the bleeding there - which was where most of the blood was coming from - I placed my hand hard on his femoral artery.

"She's dead," the guy I forgot was even there said sadly.

"Check the other guy! His name is King," I said, trying to maintain control.

"Hey, you there, I have some questions for you," I said quietly, hoping Michael could hear.

"Jeez, Drew, I still know my name. And don't pretend you weren't going to ask that," he said, reassuring me a lot to his condition. LOC + 1. [**AN: LOC means Level of Consciousness, and is an official term in the medical practice. There are four levels. For every right question the victim gets right, that's another point up. It determines the mental state of the patient, and can also help in seeing whether or not the patient is stable or unstable, and which transport is necessary**]

"Yeah, okay, so you got one point. Can you answer where you are?"

"Yeah, I'm in Bermuda, roasting in the hot sun, dork," he was teasing me. The nerve!

"Answer!"

"I'm in a crappy warehouse helping some nosy detective catch some bad guys," he laughed, then grimaced again. Okay, LOC + 2.

"Okay, now what happened to you, and what day or month is it?" I said, trying to sound both professional and caring as I could.

"I got shot by who knows who, and it's the middle of May," he said, somehow bored. Perfect, LOC + 4.

"He's not doing so good," I heard the panicked guy say, "What do I do?"

"Where's he hurt?" I said, rather loudly and quickly.

"His head and his stomach. On the side of his stomach! I'm holding my jacket to his head to stop the bleeding, but I don't know what to do about the stomach!"

I thought about the situation for a moment. I couldn't possibly leave Michael for two reasons: I didn't want to, and I had to stay with my patient until more qualified help came, or else I could legally get sued. Not that Michael would sue me, but you know what I mean.

"Where's most of the damage coming from?" I said, but that was almost a stupid question. I had seen earlier how bad his head was bleeding, it was hard to think of his stomach bleeding yet more. But it was possible, I guess. Boy, if it was… he was in trouble.

"His head!"

"In what area is the bullet effecting?" I was still trying to keep pressure on Michaels' artery, which was working, and trying to think about King's condition.

"Umm, it's about an inch above his right ear, and it's not too far in," he said, and I was slightly annoyed at the guy. _Not too far?_ What kind of answer was that?

"Not too far in which direction? Where did the bullet enter and where did it exit?"

"Oh, umm, I think it entered through the back of his skull, and exited in the front. Umm, it's about maybe a half-inch or inch deep into his, umm, skull." good, his voice was calmer now, his instincts kicking in.

The questions kept on going for a couple minutes. I kept checking Michael's LOC, he seemed to be doing okay, considering. His LOC was only slightly slipping. King was, however, U in the AVPU scale. [**AVPU is another medical term, also dealing with the response. A=Alert; V=Voice; P=Pain; and U=Unconscious. E.g., patient is P, or responding to pain. Or V, responding to voice**]

I kept Michael talking, and he, of course, was still joking around. Trust a guy to joke at the most inconvenient times. Ha, but then again, so did I.

I don't think I've ever been so relieved as when I heard the ambulance's annoying wail.

**Author note: Sorry it took me so long! I was… injured for a bit. Then school got in the way. And I also have TRLU syndrome. Takes Really Long to Update. I will try to do better next time!**

**And hope no one minds some of the medical acronyms. I tried to explain it as best as I could. I thought it would be cool if Nancy was at least and ETT, with possible EMT training.**

**And about Nancy, what do you think of her character in my story? Is it un-Nancy-like? I was aiming for something like somewhat innocent, yet cunning and knowledgeable in fighting? I'm not sure how I was going to describe it. I can't seem to think right today.**

**And wow, this is my longest chapter so far. Is it good? I don't know....**


	4. Chapter 4

I almost didn't ride in the ambulance, not knowing what they did to him. But I eventually decided that I had to. I was so scared. Michael slipped in and out of consciousness. I closed my eyes for half of the time, wishing I had not contacted King at all.

The man whose name I found out was Andrew Zimmerman gave me his jacket. I took it gratefully.

_All my fault…._

The ride there seemed to take forever, in the unbearably hot ambulance. I had completely forgotten how hot they got. I must have been out of it, because I didn't even take off the jacket. And when I finally got there, I wanted to be back with Michael. I wanted to go back and change the past. I most certainly did not want to call his mom, and tell her what happened.

I delayed as long as I could, which was actually not very long at all. I decided to call Dad first.

"Dad?" my voice sounded small, even to me. I was nearly crying now.

_All my fault…._

"Nancy, what's wrong?" my father, being a lawyer, knew something was wrong immediately.

"It - it's Mike. He's in the hospital. It's all my fault," my voice finally broke.

"Nancy, are you all right? How's he doing? People have been calling me all night about you two! I was so worried. Nancy, I'm sure it's not your fault," he said, he was worried, too. Everything came out so fast.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a scratch. Wait! Who called? Did they leave their names? Did you recognize them?" I had totally forgotten about me. I was trying to focus on something other than the hospital. What if it was the company? What if they came after Dad? Now I was worried again.

"Where are you? I'm coming right away. Be careful. You can give me the details later," I told him, and we hung up.

After that, I felt sad, guilty, alone. My thoughts spun out of control, and I wish I could have stopped them. I had killed someone, and Michael and my contact were in the hospital because of me.

I don't know how long I was left alone to my thoughts before a policeman came up and started asking me questions. I was apparently in shock or something, because my brain refused to work properly.

"Hey, can't you see she's having a hard enough time as it is without you people adding to it?!" a familiar voice demanded. I felt my breath suck in, as I recognized the voice. Could it be?

"Frank?" I said, relief flooding my voice.

"Hey, there, Nancy, how's it going?" he said cheerily as he held out his arms.

I willingly fell into his arms. Oh, God, don't let me start to cry again….

"Hey, quit hogging all the chicks, man!" a light voice said. Joe, my brain registered. Always the joker.

"Oh, Joe, it's so good to see you both!" I went into his open arms next. "How did you? Did you?" I asked quizzically, still confused.

"A guy named Michael called Frank's phone, leaving a weird message about 'danger' and 'Nancy Drew'. Should've known danger always follows Nancy Drew. Anyway, we called anyone we could to see what that was all about. He seemed kind of anxious, and since it was tonight, we just couldn't sit around. Well, technically, I could, considering we had no idea of what warehouse he meant, but someone here got all jumpy and grumpy," Joe said, poking a little fun at his brother. I noticed Frank's face turn a slight color. And in turn, I also blushed a little.

"You worried us sick! Having someone else leave a puzzling message about you - We didn't know what to do. So I called your dad, and Joe tried Bess and George," with that, he glanced suspiciously at Joe. I tried unsuccessfully to decipher that look, but with no luck. Jeez, my brain must really be stressed out.

"And since we knew what town, it was just the matter of who's car to drive here," Joe finished. I just then noticed the police had gone.

Frank kept glancing at me. "You really should get some sleep," he looked at his watch, "Yeah, it's 1:23, and you've had a long day. You need some sleep," he took my arm, and lead me to the elevator, Joe right behind us. "And tomorrow, you can tell us everything."

At the mention of what time it was, I realized how sleepy I really was. I tripped over my own foot, and Frank looked suspiciously at me.

"Must be sleepy," I said, somewhat lamely, I admit.

We were out in no time, it seemed, and looking for Frank's car.

Then a thought occurred to me. "Oh, but Michael!"

"He's in a hospital, where he should be. And we're taking you to where you should be. By the way, where _are_ we taking you?" Joe asked.

"Oh, the hotel on Brent Avenue. Uhh, Best Western, I think," I rubbed my forehead.

The world spun, and everything turned black and white, and momentarily black. I was out before I hit the pavement.

**AN: I know this is shorter, but since I've updated three times, I figure this is okay. And it seemed like a good place to end the chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: Oh, and apparently I'm supposed to say how I don't own Nancy Drew or any of the characters. Except for people like Michael, King, and Annie. I do own them. **

**AN: Please review! Please? How about if I say pretty please?**


	5. Chapter 5

Frank's POV:

I nearly jumped out of my truck, rushing into the hospital. When I found out just minutes earlier that there had been a shooting in a warehouse, my gut lurched cruelly. We rushed here, and I was sure Joe was going to have a heart attack.

"Oh, my God! Frank! Look out! You almost ran over that little old lady!" Joe yelled, yanking at his seatbelt, finally putting it on.

"That's what she gets for being out at night. Especially at a night like this. What kind of grandma goes out at night? Not a good one, no. She must be dealing drugs, or something. Serves her right," I said believably.

"Yo, Frank, uhh, one-ways are for only one way. And right now, you're going the opposite way," Joe said stupidly.

"You must be reading the sign wrong," was my answer.

"Dude, I don't think so. And, you know, as proof, there's three cars coming our way now," God, how annoying could little brothers be? They think they know everything.

"No, you're reading the sign wrong! And they're criminals! One car goes the wrong way, and two other follow. What kind of town is this, anyway? Little old ladies dealing drugs, and people taking the wrong streets, taking the possibility of causing accidents to helpless drivers! I have no idea what tourists are thinking when they visit here."

"Frank, watch out got that - oh, never mind. Apparently you didn't see that huge 18 wheeler coming head-on toward us," Joe said as sarcastically as he could be, to me, he sounded a little scared.

"What's the matter, Joe? Scared of the dark?" I tried to make a joke of it, but I really wanted to find out what was wrong, too.

"No, I'm actually more scared of the people driving in the dark," he said, his feet against the dashboard, and hand gripping the door, his whole body scooted way down in the seat.

"Good, you noticed how crazy people here drive, too. I mean, seriously! Bar Harbor must be a haven to criminals, thieves, and druggies. And did you see that semi? Drivin' on the wrong side of the road. Jerk. Must be from England. They drive on the wrong side of the road, too. Never trust an Englishman. All crazy drivers, or mad scientists."

"Okay, Frank, whatever you say," Joe spoke soothingly, "Did you take any drugs today, by any chance?"

"God, Joe, don't be an idiot! Who do you think I am, anyway? I ain't no druggie. And if I was, it would be better than being a little old lady who deals drugs," I veered, trying not to run over that same old lady I had seen earlier, "Get out of the way, ya pill-pusher!" I yelled out the window at her. Jeez, some people have no common sense these days.

Anyway, when we finally got to the hospital, we had a hard time getting any info out of anybody.

"Tell me where she is!" I said menacingly, grabbing this guys shirt collar and pushing him against the wall.

"I tell you! I just a janitor! I clean only! I no kill anyone before!" the guy - obviously a foreigner - started whimpering.

I seen Joe out of the corner of my eye.

"Dude, Frank, what the hell are you doing?!" Joe said, pulling me away from the guy. _Frederico_ his nametag said.

"This guy knows something, and he won't tell me," I said, still angry at the impudence of the guy.

"Frank, he's a _janitor_ for the _hospital_. He couldn't have possibly have done anything! Wake up! What's _wrong _with you?! Nearly killing me and a dozen other people on the road is bad enough, now you go around threatening somebody for something he had no idea of!" Joe got unreasonably angry. Why was he so grouchy? What got into him?

"He's a _janitor_! Haven't you ever seen _The Early Years_? All janitors take an oath to stir up danger, murder, homicide, and soup! You can't trust a janitor! Them and the English! Never trust any of them!" I exclaimed.

Oh, God, did I actually _say_ that? What's _wrong _with me? Oh, no - was Joe actually… _right_?

I sank into the nearest chair I found, and put my head in my hands.

"Yo, bro, you okay now?" Joe asked.

"Yeah. No. Kind of. No! First I find out Nancy - who I haven't seen in five years - is in trouble, and I have no idea what kind of trouble. Then I drive down to this crazy town - okay, I crazily drove to town at all hours of the night just to get here in time for who knows what. Then I discover that she could be hurt, possibly shot. And then the guy who called is apparently with her. What do we know about this Michael guy anyway?"

"Yo, relax, I know what you're going through. Let's look at what we do know. Michael is looking out for Nancy enough to call in back-up when she couldn't or wouldn't do that. He was with her when whatever happened. We're in the freaking hospital right now, so there's really no point in freaking out when you're so close to her. And, get this, we do not know she's actually been hurt."

Wow, sometimes Joe really surprises me.

"What kind of freak freaks out like that?" I asked myself, grasping sanity.

"Hey, the girl you love possibly is hurt, what guy wouldn't freak out? Not condoning you yelling at old ladies, but you know what I mean," Joe smiled at the memory.

"Hey, I never said I loved her! Besides, what about Ned and…Michael?" I asked suspiciously.

"Bro, I think you just showed how much you love her."

Whoa, Joe. He's actually starting to surprise me more.

"Surprised ya, didn't I?" he grinned, "Get used to it, bro," he grinned mischievously.

"Hey, look!" Joe suddenly yelled. I looked over to the direction he was pointing to, and standing there, being bugged by a police, was a certain red-headed girl.

I got up quickly and told the guy to take a hike and leave the lady alone. But I was actually un-crazy when I said that. Just seeing her made me feel better. Her face was scratched and bruised, her hair was all messed up, and she was wearing a jacket three sizes too large for her, but she looked perfect. I pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, quit hogging all the chicks, man!" came my annoying brother's voice. Nancy went to his arms.

"Oh, Joe, it's good to see you both! How did you - Did you?" She was confused. Who wouldn't be? We certainly were. I was going to ask what happened, but she looked really tired. So I refrained. Both Joe and I told her how we got here.

We took Nancy to my car. She was so sleepy, I could see it in her eyes, though I think she tried to hide it. Either that, or she didn't even register that she was tired.

I knew how wiped out she was when she tripped over herself. I looked at her, trying to express my concern, but she shook it off.

No sooner than when we got outside, I seen Nancy's body go slack, and fall toward the ground.

"Nancy!" Joe and I both cried out. We also both tried to catch her, but we fumbled over each other, and she hit the ground. Hard, I was afraid.

"Do you think she was sleepy, or it's from all the pressure?" Joe asked.

"Umm, both, knowing Nancy. Probably hasn't been sleeping good, and tonight didn't help. Joe, go get someone, I'll check her over," I commanded, more in control than I thought I would be. I sounded calm, but my head was racing.

I checked her head for any bumps, and there were a couple. I was surprised no one had made her stay the night at the hospital. Her breathing seemed fine. Pulse okay, slightly fast. I took off her jacket, knowing that if I didn't, the doctor would have to.

I was shocked to see dried blood on her arm. Looked like a bullet wound. Okay, skip bringing doctors out here, she's going inside now. I gently picked her up, trying to avoid touching her arm any more than necessary.

"She passed out, and she was shot with a gun. She needs a doctor. Now!" I bellowed at an astonished clerk.

A doctor came out of no where and took her away on a gurney. Joe walked to me.

"So?" was all he said.

"Well, she had a few pretty good sized bumps on her head, and upon taking that jacket off, I discovered she also had a gunshot wound," I said, slightly angry at Nancy for not getting it looked at, and the doctors for not checking her immediately. I had no idea how she escaped it.

"A wha? Did you say gunshot wound? And she wasn't cleaned up or anything?" Joe sounded shocked, too. Trust Nancy to surprise anyone.

"Yeah, I did. And, yeah, it wasn't. How can she not get it checked on? How could the doctors not see something was wrong?" I marveled.

We waited. We weren't even allowed to see her. Joe decided it was a good time to find out more about what happened. As I should have done earlier, and maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Joe found out there were four victims, now counting Nancy. All had been shot. Only God knows how that happened. One had died, one wasn't in a good condition, and the other - Michael - was shot in the knee and stomach. King wasn't expected to survive, but Michael would recover.

I decided to look around for Nancy myself. If I could just see her….

**AN: Hey, everyone! How'dya like it so far? I know Frank would never act like that, but I thought it would be funny. And I'm sorry if my Frank POV isn't very good. I don't really understand guys, and I think that kind of effects me writing on their POV. **

**See any mistakes? Tell me please!**

**And I own Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, and I live in Hollywood right next to Max Thieriot and Channing Tatum. If you believe that…well, you shouldn't believe that. Do they even live in Hollywood? I don't know….**

**Please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, guys! Here's chapter 6. This is taking a turn even I didn't expect. But I like it. I have more planned, I just need to get time to write it.**

**Thanks to boyzaremylife, Chromde, and thedisneygirl, and everyone who took the time to read my story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys, blah, blah, blah.**

NANCY'S POV

I woke up with a feeling of total haziness, with a huge side of pain. Groggy was a big understatement. I couldn't remember where I was, and perhaps I didn't' want to because my brain might hurt more. And also, maybe I didn't want to know.

When I opened my eyes (it took a few tries) I could make out the outlines of two people, standing near me. My eyes wouldn't focus, and this action seemed to hurt, so I settled for just listening to the voices, and trying to understand where I was from then.

" … too risky, we need to get her out of the way," the first man, with a deep voice said, clearly stressed.

"You don't think I would sleep better with her dead? But that would be stupid. We need to find out how much she knows, and who she's told. And that Michael guy, too. And King. This makes it slightly more complicated, but nothing the boss can't handle, or didn't handle before. Ease up, and act natural. Everything will be okay," the second man said, and he was most likely the man in control.

She? Who's the she they were talking about? I struggled to think, and listen. Michael! And King! Oh, it's me! Oh, shoot, where am I? Wherever I was, I needed to get out. Now.

The only question was how.

Life would be a lot easier if muscles worked when needed.

The man in control stuck some needle into some tube. I just realized that that tube was connected to me. Wait? Am I at a hospital? Are these guys doctors? Crooked doctors? Oh, God, they're everywhere.

"Time to announce the sad news to her family and friends," the second man said, and even though my eyes weren't open, I knew he had an evil smile covering his face.

Oh my God, they drugged me. I didn't want to go to sleep again, and I definitely didn't want to die.

FRANK'S POV

My search didn't last long. I was told I was "tresspassing" in a "doctor's only" room.

There's nothing worse than waiting, especially if it's in a hospital. Joe was contentedly sleeping in a chair, only God knows how, snoring loudly, and drooling slightly. I wondered how come girls were so attracted to him.

Finally, a nurse came up and asked for friends and family of Nancy Drew.

"How is she?" I got to the point.

"She's beat up, but she's young and strong. She'll pull through this, no problem," she offered a happy smile. Her nametag read _Angela_.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"In fact, she should be waking up any time now. But she's not allowed to have any visitors until later, doctor's orders. If you need any help, or have any questions, don't hesitate to ask," with that, she turned, and walked away.

I wondered if I should wake Joe up. I knew there was no real need to, but the temptation was just too strong.

"Joe, wake up," I whispered quietly. No dice. Hehe, time for the big guns now. I grabbed Joe's iPod, turned it on, and put it to the loudest most annoying song ever, and turned up the volume as high as possible. I quickly put it in Joe's ears.

With a jerk and a punch, Joe awoke.

"Frank, you idiot, you're going to pay for that!"

"Dude, I think I just did," I said, moving my jaw, making sure it worked.

"So what's the news?" Joe asked, still sleepy.

"Nancy's going to be fine."

"Really? Is she awake? Did you see her? Is anyone here? What time is it?" Joe bombarded me with questions.

"Yes, and no, umm, no, no, and 7:46."

"Why don't you call Carson, and I'll go check on Michael and King," Joe suggested. Sounded good to me.

So I called him on his cell, but no answer. I left a quick message, announcing the good news.

Then I was back to waiting.

NANCY'S POV

The world spun sickeningly as I sat up. I waited a moment, trying not to take too much time. I ripped out the nasal cannula. It was really annoying, and made your nose dry, but the air made you feel better.

I stumbled the first couple steps, only then realizing how sore I was. You'd think I had survived an avalanche or something, the way I felt.

The next part was more complicated. I tried to act normal as I exited my room. The looks of the place affirmed I was in a hospital. The thought gave me no comfort whatsoever.

I spotted a bathroom, and decided to take the chance to gather myself, and figure out what I was doing.

I relaxed oddly on a toilet seat.

Okay, I knew that I was shot, beat up, drugged, and possibly trying to be killed.

Second, I remembered Michael.

Then I remembered King.

Oh, crap, I remembered Frank. And Joe.

I considered my options. If I escaped, I would have to do it with everyone. If they were trying to kill me, they would no doubt kill Michael and King. And I could not handle Michael and King by myself. I wondered how far the organization spread. I mean, if they had doctors, what else would they have?

I finally made up my mind. I would find Frank and Joe, and find out about Michael and King. Then we would all decide what to do. My head hurt so much, I didn't want to think much more.

"What have we here?" a voice I recognized as the first guy in my room said. I felt my air suck in, and my head swim.

Frank's POV

I seen a couple doctors rush in one of their "doctor's only" room, and couldn't help but wonder if it was Nancy.

No, I told myself. Nancy was going to be fine, the nurse even told me that. No problem.

Joe told me Michael was probably going to pull through, but King had declined. Hope itself was sinking, in his situation.

The same nurse, Angela, came in the room, her face solemn. I felt sorry for some poor family.

She came toward us. My gut coiled at the thought. No. She said Nancy would be fine.

"I'm sorry - "

She said Nancy was going to be fine.

"… There was complications. We gave her penicillin. Her body rejected it. There was no way for us to know she was allergic to it. I'm sorry. There's nothing else we could have done," she finished. She looked genuinely sorry. Her eyes looked downward to us, and I knew she hates this part of her job.

I couldn't believe it. My face was filled with shock. I looked at Joe, he looked torn. No. I sat a moment, dumbfounded.

"Frank, you okay?" Joe's voice shook.

She said Nancy would be okay.

I didn't notice, but my feet brought me to the front desk.

"I think there's been a mistake, can you tell me where I could find Nancy Drew's room?" I asked.

Angela's face was sad. "I'm sorry, sir, she - she's gone."

"No!" I was angry now, and you could tell, "You said she was going to be okay! I called her father! I told him she was going to be fine! I lied to him! Because you lied to me! You told me she was going to be fine!" I was nearly yelling.

Joe was there immediately. He tried to drag me away. His nose was red, and his eyes were teary.

_No._ God, please, no. Not Nancy.

Joe pulled me in a hug.

**Like it? Or is it a good fire starter? Please tell me! Thanks! XD**

**~Jamie~**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys, nor will I ever own them. :( So sad. I'm like a kid who found out Santa got run over by a reindeer, and that's why I got coal last year. **

**Thanks for reading! You - yes YOU - are awesome! Special thanks to all those who reviewed my story. :)**

Nancy's POV

I was brought back to my room, and strapped to a gourney, and gagged. Whee, fun. Just like old times. After that, they covered me with a blanket. After hearing the doctor's conversation before, it didn't take me long to realize that I was now "dead" to the world.

Not good. That would mean that no one would ever look for me. I had to escape.

Then I thought of my father. Had he heard? Did he even know I was here?

Yes, I thought, he does know. Frank and Joe probably called him. Oh, God, Frank. I finally see him after all these years, and now he thinks I'm dead.

I started to get claustrophobic underneath all the blankets.

I hardly ever cry. But maybe it was the drugs, or just everything. But I couldn't help but feel totally lost.

Frank's POV

You know, at first, it's like everything's a dream. Like you'll wake up and find her alive and well. But it's not a dream. Reality is a nightmare.

Then you remembered everything about her. Every detail, every moment you spent together. The way her smile lit up a room, her red hair shining in the moonlight, the way she looked when I seen her last….

Stop it, Hardy. Have to pull yourself together. At least until later.

"Joe, we should probably call everyone. Let them know…." you never actually want to say _dead_, even to yourself.

"Sure, okay," Joe looked miserable. He had gone through what I was going through with Iola. Now Nancy was like a sister to him.

I was elected to call Carson, George, and Ned. Joe would call Dad and Mom, and Bess. I secretly wished no one would answer, especially Carson.

As it turns out, Carson wasn't. I'd call George next.

"Hello?" a voice I presumed was George said. It had been a long time since I'd seen her.

"George? This is Frank. Frank Hardy! Are you busy?" I nearly had to yell, the room I was in was so noisy.

"Frank! No way! What are you up to now? Why is it so loud?" she sounded really happy. I almost considered not telling her.

"I'm at a hospital, George. George -" I couldn't finish. Didn't know how. My voice shook a little anyway.

George must've sensed it. "What's wrong? Is it Joe? Oh, please, no!"

"No, George, it's not him. He's here with me. It's - it's Nancy." I took a breathe.

George gasped. "No, not Nancy. Is she all right? She's going to be all right, right? What's wrong? What happened?" she sounded frantic. Anyone who knew Nancy knew she could get into trouble. But she was always lucky before.

"I don't know how to say this. Nancy," my voice cracked, "she won't be coming home."

She didn't say anything for a long time. I wondered if she was still there. A gourney passed by with five doctors surrounding it. I wondered why so many.

"Okay, um, does Bess know? Where are you? I'm going there right now. You can tell me everything when I get there."

"Bar Harbor, Maine. Faith Baptist Hospital. And Joe's calling her right now." my voice must have sounded mechanical.

"Thanks, Frank. Hang in there. I'm coming," her voice was unnaturally quiet, yet together, though I could tell she had been crying.

Ned was a totally different case, though I expected it. I knew they had broken up, but Nancy wouldn't tell me why. Ned swore to break every bone in my body if I had anything to do with it. I was a little mad, but I wanted to do something similar to myself, too, so I really couldn't blame him.

The worst was yet to come. Breaking the news to Carson.

Nancy's POV

"So you won't talk, Miss Drew? Playing silent? That really won't work around here," my captor said. I stared at him defiantly.

The man went by the name Robert, but I had no doubt that these people wouldn't be stupid enough to let their real name slip, so I assumed it was a fake name. And the stereotypical picture of criminals with scars, tattoos, and ugly features didn't fit with Robert at all. He was absolutely handsome. Or gorgeous, as Bess would say. Bess….

No, I will not show them I feel helpless.

"Tell us how much Jeff told you, and who you told. Tell us everything now, or I'll let Mike to come…change your mind."

Mike? Michael? I perked up at the name.

A big guy walked towards me. I was surprised I hadn't seen him before. But then again, it was so dark. There was only one dull lamp in this huge room.

I remained firm. Letting these guys - whoever these guys were - know what they need to know would only help them, and ensure my death since they wouldn't need me.

"Miss Drew, this is not a waiting game. The cavalry will not come to rescue you at the last moment. Cooperation is the only method which will grant you mercy. And you do need mercy." he smirked. There was no regret in his voice, only…enjoyment? You never expect a criminal to be remorseful, but it's always sad when they aren't. Instead of people, they become machines.

"Tell me where my friends are, then I might talk," I broke my silence. I was surprised how hoarse I sounded.

"You should know you are not in a position to bargain. But I feel the urge to give a dying lady her last request. However, the time is not right. Maybe later," Robert grinned, and I knew he loved this part of his job, "Mike, do your duty."

I could guess what his job was, and I wasn't looking forward to it.

George's POV

The news devastated me. Head strong, independent, lovable Nancy…my best friend. I couldn't believe it. Didn't want to. The news made my head spin. I was speechless for a long time, and I didn't even realize that I had been crying until I got off the phone with Frank.

Poor Frank…. Nancy loved him, I was sure, even though she never admitted it to anyone. I sometimes wondered whether she admitted it to herself. And it wasn't hard to see that Frank loved her as well. The two idiotic people wouldn't admit it to each other, though. Nan had Ned, and Frank had Callie. Although Nancy and Ned split…. My blood boiled at the reason why. Then I wondered if Frank was still with Callie.

After hanging up - and after my brain started working again - I wondered what happened. Why was Frank and Joe with her? All sorts of horrible thoughts entered my mind. I tried to shake them off, but couldn't. I knew Nancy would never give up mysteries, but being a PI could be so dangerous sometimes, I even wanted her to stop for a while. But everyone knew that was a vain point. I suddenly wished I'd tried harder to discourage her.

The phone rang again, and I didn't even hear it till who knows how long.

"George?" it was Bess, and she found out.

"How are you?" my voice sounded so weird. I can't remember the last time I cried.

"So you heard, I -" she broke off into sobs. I joined in with her.

After about a minute, I continued, "I'm going to go to Maine. You wanna come or not?"

Joe's POV

It seemed everyone was coming here. It was kind of ironic to me; I'd rather be any place but here. I had too much experience with dealing with the…loss of someone close. First Iola, now Nancy. Nancy was just like a sister to me: stubborn, watchful, and competitive. I seen her only hours ago…time meant nothing. It was like I had just seen her, yet at the same time, it seemed as if it had been forever since I seen her.

I had no idea what to do, but I had to do something. I thought it would be best if I checked on Frank.

I found him in an empty room. He was sitting on a char, bent over, head on his hands.

"We should probably go eat or something. Check in a hotel maybe," I suggested.

"Do you know what time it is? I think it's a little early to check in," he sounded monotone. Oh, yeah, forgot how long we've been here.

"Okay, then let's go eat."

He looked up, his eyes fiery, "No! We can't! You know why? Because N-nancy's dad is coming here! And he doesn't know what happened! I have to tell him it! How can I tell him that after I told him everything was going to be all right?" he snapped. I don't think I could blame him.

Dangit, I forgot that Carson didn't know. That was going to be hard.

"Look, I know how you feel, but you should do something to take your mind off of everything!"

He considered it, "I know what I can do. What I will do if it kills me," he said quietly to himself, and I was worried what that thing might be.

"I'm gonna catch the** [insert favorite curse word**] who did this," he finished passionately.

Nancy's POV

Because of the warehouse earlier, my shoulder was burning - although I wasn't sure why because I didn't think it was that bad - and my brain felt like mush. And because of the hospital, I was dizzy and disoriented. But after Mike did his job, I was absolutely exhausted. I couldn't stand because my legs were jello, so I was carried by a hairy guy through a long corridor. I tried to remember what turns we took, but it only made my head spin.

Finally, we got to a large wooden door with bars in the little window thingy **(what are those thingy's called???)**.

As we entered the room, we were enshrouded in darkness. I wondered how he could find his way so easily. He was surprisingly gentle as he placed me on the floor. The floor was concrete, and there were crates everywhere. As much as I wanted to explore, I couldn't help but fall asleep.

**Well, this is the 10th**** of June, and my internet is down, so I will not post this until later. As a result of the internet being down, I have the choice of being bored, read, or write. Soooo I chose to write. I was gonna stop after this chapter, but this was kind of depressing. So I have part of chapter 8 written already. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE sad stories, but sad stories and Nancy Drew seems somehow wrong…. Although I plan on another sad story for Nancy Drew after I finish this story. Soooo do you guys like a combo of sad stories and Nancy Drew???????? Or should I try something else??? How do you like the story so far??? **

**And thanks to all my lovely reviewers! You guys make me happy! XD**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, faithful readers, I am extremely sorry that I am a terrible, rotten, pathetic updater. But here is the next chapter to this Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys story. There is no excuse as to why it took me so long to write. I have been at college, but that's a terrible alibi. Sadly, I kinda forgot about these stories. But now it is my goal to write a chapter every other night for the next 10 days. So without further delay, here is chapter 8.**

**Chapter 8  
(As if you didn't know that it was chapter 8)**

I awoke with a headache like no other. Every muscle was sore from the beating Mike had given me earlier this morning – or was it last night? – and sleeping on concrete probably didn't help. I waited a moment to gather myself. Note to self: being shot, becoming dead, and being beaten afterward does not help one's ability to think straight.

I sat up, albeit with lots of pain and confusion, and searched the dark room.

"Hello? I'm awake now, I think that means it's time for another beating, or shot, or becoming dead again or something equally dastardly," I said as loudly as I could, though it didn't accomplish the intended goal.

I scanned the room again. It was cold, dark, and filled with crates. Probably a storage room, basement, or hiding place. Heck, maybe a place designed specifically for the minor torture of people like me.

"Hmphgrfm?" I heard a voice say quietly and gravelly, tied with a groan of pain.

"Michael?" panic gripped me. Michael couldn't be here; I willed him not to be. Every sore bone in my body rejected the idea of him being here.

And he wasn't. "Jeff," was all he said.

"Oh, shoot, Jeff. Hold on, I'm coming," Jeff didn't sound good. I tried to remember exactly what happened. I think he got shot. Wait, he did. He didn't look good then. How's he going to be now?

I slowly and clumsily crawled my way over to where I thought I heard his voice coming from, nausea threatening me.

"Jeff, can you say something again, please, so I can know where to go?" I asked as kindly and assuringly as possible.

"Over here," his voice was definitely strained, but it did sound better than the muffled gargle he uttered a moment ago.

When I neared Jeff, I reached for something that I found out to be his shin.

"Hey, there, buddy, how you doing?"

"I've been better," I found out that he was sitting against a crate.

"No kidding. Let's see how you're doing, 'kay? What's your name?"

"Which name do you want? I've got so many, I'm not sure even I remember my real name. But most people know me as Jeffrey Anthony King, satisfied?" he sounded kinda angry, but I guess I would be, too, if I'd been shot and betrayed like he was.

"Good. You know where you are, Jeff?"

"I'd say we're somewhere still in Bar Harbor in one of the CIA's covert houses, but I really don't know for sure," good, he sounded better already.

"That question was really for me, too, just so you know, because I have no idea where we are," I said honestly, "Do you remember what the date is?"

"Frankly, I never remember asking you out," he chuckled.

"You know, if we weren't stuck here and if you weren't injured, I would have punched you," I chuckled, too.

"Yeah, you'd think I'd have properly asked a girl like you out," he started, then got quiet, "But no, I can't remember the date exactly. I do know that it's spring, though. At least, I hope it's spring."

"Hahaha, good enough."

"Do I pass, nurse?"

"Of course you pass, you gave all the right answers then added humor to it, which in my book you deserve extra brownie points. Now if only I could see better to inspect your wounds," my voice trailed off in contemplation.

I was trying to keep it light. Becoming moody never helped anyone, and if anyone's spirits needed lifting, it was two dead people's. Wait…somehow that just sounded wrong….

Then, out of the blue, I couldn't help but cry. I wasn't making a sound, didn't want to, but the tears started falling.

My dad, what if I never seen him again? What if I never get to say goodbye? What if I dragged him into this, just like I dragged Michael?

Oh, shoot, Michael…. How was he? Where was he? This was all my fault. I'd gotten him into this; I'd gotten him hurt, possibly worse. He could be dead. He was shot, and last I knew, he wasn't doing good at all. And if he wasn't dead, he could be soon. Or he could be here. He could have been beaten like I was. That and a million other scenarios danced in my head, torturing my mind.

"Hey, what's happening?" I distantly heard Jeff inquire.

This was absolute nonsense, I knew in my head, this was the most insane mood swing I've ever had. Stupid drugs, or hormones, or stress, or something. But my mind just kept on going and going, thinking about everything. It was so weird, I was thinking of this situation that I was in – trapped in a basement with a random guy – but it was like I couldn't concentrate on any one thing here. My mind was spinning. My headache was about to get worse. I think I was still crying, and dangit, I couldn't stop. Each time I tried, I think I ended up crying more.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said, but I wasn't paying attention.


End file.
